When I Dream
by Bright bluR
Summary: Harry finds himself in a hospital after a rather questional run in with a friend. Mainly DMxHP, slight RWxHP
1. Chapter 1

Harry finds himself in a muggle hospital after a rather questionable run-in with a friend. Mainly DMxHP slight RWxHP

A/N: WOW, it certainly has been awhile! Well, I must say, this fic isn't going to be as gory as "Worth", my first DMxHP, but if you like this one, I expect you to read that one too! Yes, this one is going to be a lot more "lovey-dovey", with only slight "OMG I HATE YOU! DIE!" Hopefully it will be a multi-chaptered, probably about 5 or so, but let's just see how it goes… so, please enjoy-

When I Dream 

Darkness surrounded him. He couldn't even see his own hand in front of his face, let alone the enemies hiding in the cold background of this black abyss. Soon they would descend upon him, he knew it.

They would come running at him with their weapons extended in their powerful grip, aiming at his smaller frame. And with those weapons, they would torture him; he didn't deserve a swift, painless death.

Knives would skin him. Hammers would break his exposed bones. And after all that, they would then saw off his limbs one by one. All the time he would plead with the one pointing the gun at his head; begging them to pull the trigger, to deliver him from this agony. They will laugh then, and it is then that he will die, finally broken.

But they did not descend. They let him cower in the darkness with only his thoughts to drive him over the edge of sanity. He wouldn't last much longer, crumpled on the ground he stayed completely still… and still he stayed; once again, he had died in his dream.

Xx………………………………………...H...…………………………………………xX

Sitting up in bed, he grabbed his chest. That was the third time that night he had awoken breathless. Reaching over to the bedside table, his slender fingers snaked their way around a glass of water. His breathing was worsening each passing night. Three times he had gone to sleep wondering if he would wake up at all.

With glasses nowhere in sight, he squinted at the wall, trying in a vain attempt to decipher the time. He hated the clocks that adorned every wall in the hospital. It seemed that they were mocking him; it seemed that they knew exactly how much longer he had to live and they would count down until his time came.

Giving up on the clocks, he turned to look out the opened window beside his hospital bed. The moon was high in the air, and stars somehow managed to twinkle through the slight clouds. Truly, it was a beautiful sight; though this night's sky was so much similar to last night's… Just the thought of the previous evening made dear Harry cringe.

Xx…………………………………………H…………………………………………xX

The Dursley's were unbearable; he just couldn't stand them another moment. So, just like the summer before his third year, Harry bravely made his way into the night. The slight breeze helped him speed even farther away from the hell he was forced to reside in every summer.

The ride to the Leaky Cauldron was uneventful; He was now used to the Night Bus, and was starting to lack the shrill excitement he once held for it. Once settled into a room, he collapsed onto the bed, not bothering to change into his nightwear, and entangled himself in the thin sheets of the inn.

With half lidded eyes, a small smile slithered onto his face and just as he was about to slip into the oblivion of sleep, loud roars of anger were heard from the main lobby. Always the hero, Harry descended down to offer his assistance.

Entering the lobby, immediately he sees his closest friend, Ronald Weasley sprawled out on the floor with books scattered about the floor around him. Harry quickly made his way over to his friend and helped him to his feet, picking up his books as well. Handing the items back to their owner, Harry gave Ron a questioning look. 

Not to say that he wasn't thrilled to see Ron again, oh no, he was tickled pink about that! But where was the rest of the Weasley's? And why was Ron on the floor and with books no less!

"Thought I'd come early for school supplies before the crowds in the morning. Then I tripped over poor Scabbers here. Bloody rat's a menace!" Ron said with a smile after seeing Harry's look.

Out of the shadows the innkeeper, Tom, asked them if they were to be standing there all night. Ron turned red as he dug deep in his pockets in search of money to pay for his nights stay. When he didn't find any, he let out another frustrated groan. Our hero laughs, and offers to share his room with Ron. They were best friends; surely sharing a bed in an inn, with no supervision, late at night, when no one's listening can't be a bad thing!

In Harry's opinion, it was actually quite nice, having another body so close. There wasn't a lot of room, just enough to be comfortable. And although it was a warm evening, they kept the sheets up, like they were hiding some dark secret. That secret became clear when Ron entwined his fingers with Harry's and scooted a little closer to his chum.

Harry thought nothing of it. Sometimes Ron would climb into Harry's four-poster bed with him at Hogwarts. All he did, was tightened his grip on Ron's hand, and drifted into a light slumber, unaware of the red head's intentions.

Xx………………………………………….H…………………………………………xX  
He was swimming in darkness again. Was it like this every time he closed his eyes? Slumbers like this were never quite restful. Squinting, once again, nothing came to his view.

Again he bravely awaited his enemies attack. Only this time a beam of light descended upon our hero, washing away all of his doubts and fears. The light upon him let him see again, even if only a little; and he spotted the enemy.

There were not hundreds, as he had thought, no, there was but only one armed figure still lurking in the shadows of his vision. And once spotted, they raised their knife and launched it at Harry's chest. Harry did not move, he let the sharp implement impale him, and he fell on his knees.

Blood splashed across the plain; all he could see was red. He was dying, and the one guilty was laughing. Their slight chuckles were muffled by his screams of agony. Looking up, Harry's eyes were filled with a different shade of red as Ron stood before him.

It all went black again, the only proof that Ron had been there at all was his constant laughing; it leaked into his ears and he couldn't shake the feeling of shame. As the laughter died down, so did Harry. He lay on his back hugging himself, alone, and slipping away…

Xx…………………………………………H…………………………………………...xX

Bolting up in bed, pain came to Harry in waves. It consumed him, and he had to lie back onto the soiled sheets of the inn. Ron was nowhere in sight, the only thing insight was the blood that covered the bed.

A feeling of shame ripped through him as he realized what had happened. Ron did not hit him in the chest, as Harry had seen in his dream, no, he had in fact fucked Harry while he slept; some friend.   
TBC…

Well, there's chapter one! I'm sorry that this one was only RWxHP… I SWEAR that from now on it'll be DMxHP ALL THE WAY! Please don't give up on me… D': 

This one I did all by myself! No beta or anything, so, I might fix it up after  
wicked-nightmare takes a look at it…. I LOVE YOU DUDE!

um, yeah, almost done with the rambling… Just for the record, none of the characters or places are of my own mind… I don't own them. Sorry if I ruined them for anyone.

Tell me what you think! -The H- 


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I was so surprised by the liking of this fic! Thanks to all who reviewed, it helps motivate a lazy bum… --'' Any who, without further ado, here's chapter two!

When I Dream

He kept dosing in and out of consciousness that morning. The memories that filled him in the night had caused him to lay awake, staring at the ceiling until a nurse entered with the breakfast tray.

He hadn't touched any of the items on his plate, just stared at it. Only during those long hours of looking at nothing but the tiled ceiling above him it all sunk in; Ron had fucked him. His best friend in the world had sprayed his seed and left. Just the idea of Ron's semen spewing into his ass made him fidget awkwardly.

Then he began to ponder some more; what will happen at school? Surely they can't pretend nothing happened. Would he be able to even look at the red head without feeling anything but disgust and nausea? And the nights, would Ron crawl into his bed, as he usually did, and take him once more? No, he wouldn't… would he?

The beloved Harry Potter was in a very delicate state of mind at that moment, and the doctors had warned his guest to be wary.

Swinging the door open swiftly they entered and soft footfalls made their way over to the foot of the bed. Through horned-rimmed glasses they looked downward at the patient poking his eggs with a fork, completely unaware of his professor's presence.

"They're not going to eat themselves, my boy." Dumbledore's kind voice sounded through the silence.

Startled, Harry jerked upright, and looked up with accusing eyes at his attacker. Seeing who it was, he let down his guard, and smiled genuinely at the wise old man. 

Pulling from his pocket new school books, Dumbledore set them down on the bed for Harry. Upon seeing Harry's confused look, the professor elaborated.

"I took the liberty of purchasing your school books for the new year. Don't look so surprised! The train leaves in just over an hour… Shall you be wanting a wheelchair?" 

The professor's hand extended to the corner of the dull room to where said chair had just appeared.

Shaking his head, Harry scooted to the edge of his hospital bed, his legs swinging over, touching the cold ceramic flooring. Putting all of his weight onto his feet, he pushed off, standing for the first time since he was shipped here.

Wobbly he stood, swaying about until he finally found his long lost balance, and nodded to his professor. The smiling man then extended his arms to the boy, beckoning him. Responding to the unspoken request, Harry went to Dumbledore's side, and closed his eyes as the elder man placed one arm around his waist; pulling him close.

With a poof, they were off to Kings Cross. (1)

Xx……………………………………….H…………………………………………..xX

With his luggage onboard and ready, Harry too boarded the Hogwarts Express, leaving Platform 9 ¾, and Dumbledore behind him.

At his normal compartment, he stopped, and peered in; it was empty, but not for long. Not thinking he could face his friends, he went further down, and found another empty compartment to spend the ride by his lonesome.

Soon, all the compartments were filled, and the train was abuzz with excitement. Friends reunited, stories told, laughter shared. Harry suddenly felt terribly alone, wishing for come company. But as they say, 'Be careful what you wish for.'

At that moment, Three of Harry's least favourite people entered the cramped space.

"Potter."

"Malfoy."

"Look, it's Harry!"

"Hello Harry, how was your summer?"

Smacking his head, Draco told Crabbe and Goyle to go chase the trolley lady, unable to deal with their complete stupidity at that moment in time.

Taking a seat across from Harry, the blonde sat, glaring at said boy. Soon they were engaged in an elite staring contest. The first one to blink leaves to find another seat. Neither one intended on moving even if they did lose, though. It was easy to see this was only going to get worse…

When both boys eyes were dried and itchy, screaming for a quick blink, the train hit a bump; knocking Harry out of his seat and sent him reeling into Draco's lap.

Blinking, our shocked hero looked up to see the face of his cushion. What surprised him even more was the smirk on Draco's face. Surely he didn't enjoy the close proximity! Well, not that it was all bad, his eye's did shine prettily from this angle… they just seemed to sparkle.

"You lose."  
The words erupted from those thin pink lips, but Harry didn't quite catch them. He was lost in the sea of blue before him… 

Only did he pull out of his reserve once he no longer felt the soft padding of flesh beneath him, but cold hardness. He was on the floor! That bastard had let him fall! Cursing at the blond standing above him, he rose to eye level.

Draco was cursing at the fact that he had won, and still Harry was in his presence. Harry, on the other hand, was upset that once again he was pushed away, and left on the floor, alone. No more.

Nothing more was spat at the other, instead, they fought with their tongues. Both were fighting for dominance, trying to prove themselves worthy.

Harry embedded his hands in the bleach blonde hair of the other, pulling him even closer, biting and suckling at the pink lips he was staring at earlier; making them plump and red.  
Draco held Potter at his waist, gripping hard enough to leave marks.

Anger spent, they regulated their breathing only a hair apart. As if on the slightest hint from the other, they would start up again. But, with no such hint from either party, they sat back down in their seats as awkwardness set in.

"S-so, what now?" A timid Harry asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"Nothing, this never happened." Draco's cold voice reached his ear, but he agreed. No one must know about this, who knew what they would do…

"Oh…" Harry took to watching the scenery fly by and soon was back in the blackness of sleep.

Xx………………………………………….H………………………………………….xX

Darkness surrounded him, as always, and he waited; waited for something to betray the thought that he was alone.

A sense of peace and relaxation over took him, and although he couldn't see, he knew that whatever was out there wasn't going to kill him. He was in no danger, yet.

A cool fingertip pushed its way through the darkness to caress his face. How lovely it felt…

There was no pain, it was new, and it excited him to no end. He awoke peacefully that evening as they pulled up to the castle that Harry himself, called home.

Xx…………………………………………..H…………………………………………xX

Little did he know, it wasn't the soft pad of a fingertip that caressed his face, but the ink of a permanent marker. How embarrassing. 

TBC…  
(1) they apparated (sp?) if you didn't figure that out. I know you are all intelligent people, and probably figured it out by yourselves, but just in case! wait, can one do that with someone else attached to you? Eh, even if you can't, it's like that here, so there! Mwahahaa!

Sorry for the very slight crack… I'm a little out of character myself today… not to mention the Hogwarts crew… ehehe… I know this chap was a little whacked out, but please don't lose faith in me! It shall become more angsty and hot later on! Promise!

I seem to be making a lot of promises… Review to remind me to keep them! Thanks! 


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Oh wow! It's been what, 7 months? SO SORRY for those of you who are actually bothering to read this after the wait. Anyways, enough of my apologies, in this chap, the plot really kicks off. I hate the second chap, but it was needed as a build-up to this one. I like this on a whole lot more. There's actually blood in it, yay! So, yes, please enjoy-

When I Dream

Eyelids fluttering open to the slowing of the train, Harry slowly took in his surroundings. He was sluggish, compared to others around him, that is. Everyone was anxious to leave the stuffed atmosphere of the train behind. Harry was dreading it. Knowing he couldn't stay on the train, (though he really wished he could) our young hero descends onto the platform.

The Great Hall was as grand as ever. The star twinkled ceiling shone with such beauty that always seemed to amaze our young hero.

Just as on the train, Harry knew he couldn't sit in his usual place. Slipping into a seat closest to the doors, he sat alone. As students freely flowed in, Harry found himself constantly glancing over his shoulder, always vigilant, always alert.

The sorting went unnoticed to The Boy Who Lived. He felt as though everyone was watching. They Knew. They knew about Ron, and they knew about Draco. No doubt he would be labeled fag, (1) on account of everyone being able to suck on him.

Weak! Why was he being a fucking pansy? Wasn't he the famous Harry Potter, known by EVERYONE in the Wizarding world?! They should feel honoured to have a taste of him.

Beginning to feel a little more secure, Harry thought he might actually be able to half enjoy his meal.

The food appeared on the silver platters in front of everyone, as always. Harry was reaching out to grab a handful of deliciousness, but stopped his hand mid-air once he saw what he was reaching for- A whole cooked ham lay there. Its flesh a dark pink colour; slightly caramelized, and glistening with a honey mustard glaze. An apple shoved in its mouth to complete it. A sight that would make anybody's (with the exception of vegetarians) mouth water.

Harry sat staring at it for a while, and it felt like it was staring back. There was something familiar about this pig, very familiar. As he continued to stare into the eye sockets something on its rear caught his attention. It was red. (shit not again…)

Blood was leaking out of the pig's ass while it stared at him accusingly. 

The blood wouldn't stop. At first it only trickled out, but now there was a steady stream, covering the table around him, coming towards his plate.

He tried to push it away to only have it seep through his fingers and continue. As he held up his hands to see, the liquid dripped down, following the crevasses in his skin, descending to his wrists. Desperately trying to get clean, he vigorously wiped them on his cloak. Which only managed in getting himself covered even more; the blood still soaked his hands.

More still drained from the pig, it had finally reached the edge of the table and fell into Harry's legs. He felt so dirty, and so helpless. He couldn't get clean; it just kept coming and coming… There was now a puddle around his chair, and still more came, always more, MORE!

A scream erupted and ripped through all the laughter and good cheer. All eyes were on Harry as he fled the Great Hall screaming blue murder. (2) In the background, someone spoke:

"Potter's finally lost it!" (3)

Xx………………………………………H………………………………………xX

Feet shoulder-length apart, and hands clasping onto the cool surface of the sink, Harry measured himself in the bathroom mirror.

Hair was as messy as ever, and his skin, so pale, so sickly pale… standing affront his reflection let him get a clear view as to what was behind him. He kept scanning and scanning. Every now and then he would see a flash of red, a glimmer of Ron. His breath quickening, he gripped the sink tighter. When would the torment stop? Where was he safe?

Hot tears of frustration leaked down his face and he brings his head to meet the cool sink gently. The temperature shot through his burning forehead and seemingly froze his brain. Yes, such a glorious feeling. It was then that he realized his escape.

He brought his head back down to the cool surface, harder this time, faster. Always the same, each time faster and harder than the last. No longer did he think about the pig, himself. How he had trusted someone and they roasted him, leaving him vulnerable to the hungry faces above him. They wanted him, and he couldn't stop them from ripping him apart for a taste. So he smashed his face open to forget.

Cloaks of the teachers whipped behind them as they rushed to the boys' lavatory. There they found the unconscious Harry Potter face down with a red halo laying on the ground about his head. It also dripped from the sink that he smashed it upon. It was becoming quite clear that Harry was not right anymore.

Dumbledore and Magonigal looked at each other, speaking silently. After a moment Magonigal sighs in defeat and nods, agreeing with what the Headmaster had silently asked of her. The old man then picked up the bloodied boy and handed him over to a worried Mme Pomfrey just behind him.

It seemed there was no other way; the plan was set into action. They couldn't have young Harry dying on them…

Xx………………………………………H………………………………………xX 

After 3 days of unconsciousness, our young hero finally awakes and is greeted by an angel. Although his vision was blurry, and he couldn't see a face, the blonde hair upon the unseen face shone as bright as the sun. It seemingly washed away the fears hiding in the darkness, illuminating his mind and soul. This angel was here to save him, he was here to-

"Get your fat ass up, Potter."

Sitting up and wiping his eyes with the back of his hands raised the fog on his sight. He instantly took back his thoughts; Malfoy an angel? Ha!

"What do you want, Malfoy?"

"I want to go and eat. Now hurry up and get dressed."

Harry was about to question why he would ever want to eat with the blonde, but just as his mouth opened, his stomach growled loudly at him.

Slowly testing his weight on his feet as he sat at the edge of the hospital wing bed he assured himself that it was safe and he stood up. Unsteady hands came up to unbutton his cotton night shirt. With his back to Draco, he had almost forgotten that he was there. Almost.

Feeling eyes upon him as the fabric fell from his shoulders, revealing his naked back to hungry eyes. Harry turned quickly, and found Draco half staring, half denying to himself that he enjoyed staring. (lol!)

Harry reached toward Draco, who in return stood up from his seat at the bedside to meet the awaiting touch, but it didn't come. Harry's hand in fact wasn't going for Draco's porcelain face, but to the right of the blonde's shoulder, where he pulled the curtain across, blocking himself from view so he could finish changing.

Draco fell back on his chair once the curtain whizzed past his face. What was Potter's problem? If he didn't want anybody to see him naked, he would have hid himself behind the curtain before he started! But no, instead he had to do it in front of everyone…

A couple of sickly girls in their beds across from Harry were holding their breasts in anticipation. A little strip tease from the celebrity had gotten their blood pumping, and rose their fevers. Draco watched as their other free hand wandered under the covers to grab themselves.

Shaking his head in disgust he looked away. Standing up in front of the curtain he called out to Harry, questioning whether the boy was ready, his voice dripping with annoyance. The Griffindor boy quickly pulled said curtain back and nearly crashed into Draco's awaiting form in surprise. Both backed up slightly, regaining their personal space.

"You should watch where your going Potter, it's no wonder you're scarred up."

"Who said you had to wait for me?"

"Whatever, let's go."

And with that, Draco stopped out of the infirmary, trying hard not to pay attention to the withering girls in the hospital beds. 

Xx………………………………………H………………………………………xX

TBC 

Arg, I had more planned for this chapter, but I feared that if I didn't get this one out, it was never going to come.

(1) A fag is a cigarette, for those who didn't know. But I couldn't resist the play on words. Tee hee!

(2) I got tired of using the word bloody.

(3) I can always picture Shamus saying this. No matter how many times I re-read it. Makes me laugh; feel free to do the same.


End file.
